Surviving Wrath: The Deadliest Sin Series, #3

By Gwyn McNamee

I fled into the night and didn't look back.
I grieved. 
I loved. 
Then he appears.
Dark. 
Dangerous. 
I never thought wrath would find me again.
But you can't run from it.
Not when wrath is the deadliest sin.

And not when we crossed The Dragon.

 

Surviving Wrath is the third book in The Deadliest Sin series about organized crime in Chicago. This series is best read in order beacuse the stories occur chronologically and each sin builds on the events of the previous one.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gwyn McNamee
• Release date: Aug 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393368670

Gwyn McNamee

Gwyn McNamee is an attorney, writer, wife, and mother (to one human baby and two fur babies). Originally from the Midwest, Gwyn relocated to her husband’s home town of Las Vegas in 2015 and is enjoying her respite from the cold and snow. Gwyn has been writing down her crazy stories and ideas for years and finally decided to share them with the world. She loves to write stories with a bit of suspense and action mingled with romance and heat. When she isn’t either writing or voraciously devouring any books she can get her hands on, Gwyn is busy adding to her tattoo collection, golfing, and stirring up trouble with her perfect mix of sweetness and sarcasm (usually while wearing heels). Gwyn is the author of The Hawke Family series, The Slip Series, The Deadliest Sin Series, The Inland Seas Series, The Supernatural Love Stories in the Absurd (written as her alter-ego, DP Payne), and several stand-alone novels.

Book preview

Surviving Wrath

Surviving Wrath

The Deadliest Sin Series - Book 3

Gwyn McNamee

Surviving Wrath

© 2019 Gwyn McNamee

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All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Note From The Author

Sneak Peek at Squall Line

About the Author

OTHER WORKS BY GWYN MCNAMEE

To everyone who gives into wrath and has to live with the consequences.

WRATH is a sin.

However, it has dug our souls too deep, to allow us to let it go…

It burns us while holding onto it.

Yet, we are too consumed by it to leave it.

-Richa Dhingra

1

The cool, early evening air washes over me through the open automatic doors, and I step out onto the dark parking lot. A few street lamps drop small halos of light on the asphalt and the few cars still here this close to closing. Sharp laughter draws my attention to a couple of teenage girls walking down the sidewalk in front of the store. Otherwise, it's quiet.

It should be calming. I should be comforted by the fact that nothing seems amiss. But it's times like this, nights like these, that always put me most on edge. Goose bumps pebble across my exposed skin.

It was a night like this when they came for Konstandin and me, when they took me and ended our bliss.

We were so naïve to think we could get away unscathed and that Tarek would let us escape with our lives and with each other. To believe we could hide forever in our little bubble and ignore the world we came from.

We both paid the price for that childish dream.

Konstandin with his life. Me with losing him and having to raise Pjeter without his father.

So, I can’t let myself get complacent and believe I’m safe here just because things are quiet and have been for so long. A false sense of security is just as dangerous as the people still looking for us. Maybe even more so.

I tug my purse strap higher on my shoulder and set out across the lot toward the car. The plastic grocery bag in my hand crinkles as it swings from side to side with my movement, and aside from the wind blowing through the leaves in the trees lining the property, the night is eerily silent.

The usual unease of being out in the open crawls up my spine.

Keep moving. Everything’s fine. Just get to the car.

In ten minutes, I’ll be back home and cooking our late dinner. A few more steps and I’ll be safely inside the car with the locks engaged and my foot on the gas pedal.

A sharp crack rings out, and something whizzes past my ear. I jerk away from it. Another crack, another, and another…

What the hell?

A second passes. Then the sounds of my former life come rushing back to me.

Gunfire.

A sharp pain slices through my arm, and the bag clatters to the pavement, the contents spilling out around my feet.

Shit!

Someone’s shooting at me.

Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.

A barrage of shots rattles out but from a different direction. I duck behind a car. Silence falls over the lot again.

What the hell just happened?

The roar of an engine fills my ears, and a motorcycle comes to a screeching halt six inches in front of me. A massive man in black leather, with a thick, dark beard and a helmet pulled low over his forehead reaches out and grabs me.

No!

I pound on his arms as he hauls me toward him.

No! Let me go!

Not again. They're not taking me again.

He growls and shoves me onto the seat in front of him. I shift to the opposite side to jump off, but strong arms wrap around me and hold me in place. It’s like being pressed in a vise.

I’m trapped.

He revs the engine and flies out of the parking lot. Cold air stings my face, and we tear down Main Street with his massive chest pressed against my back.

My heart races, blood rushes in my ears, and warm tears stream down my chilled cheeks.

What the hell is going on? Who is he? One of Tarek’s remaining men?

I won't let this happen. I won't let them take me away from Pjeter and Lorenc. I won't lose my life a second time.

Whatever it takes…I’m going home tonight.

I slam my elbow back into the gut of the man behind me. He grunts and growls, but when I try to do it again, my elbow meets nothing but a solid wall of flexed muscle. He’s braced to absorb my blows now, and I might as well be banging against concrete.

Shit.

Stop it. The command is dark, low, and barely audible over the roar of the bike and the road beneath us, but it still sends a chill through me.

The same words Tarek said to me so many times when I tried to fight him off, when I tried to stop what he was doing to me—the past I try not to think about.

Because if I do, it only takes away from the joy and light that Pjeter is in my life. Looking at him, I see Konstandin, but I also see the man who was my tormentor. Concentrating on what I had with Konstandin is the only way I can make it through the day. Even though I lost it, just knowing I had it once is enough to make the pain bearable.

This can't be happening again. I survived it once, but I won't survive it a second time. I have to end this before it’s too late.

My kidnapper weaves in and out of traffic at breakneck speeds and blows through several traffic signals before heading out of town on one of the three tiny, two-lane highways that lead to this place.

Tears flow down my face in earnest now. The rush of the cold night air and rumble of the road fill my ears as we move deeper into the wilderness and farther from everyone I love.

Where did things go wrong?

We were safe. We've been safe for years.

Lorenc did everything he could to cover our trail. When we left Philly, we flew first to Pittsburgh then to Cuba then to Argentina. We might have stayed there forever, but Lorenc feared we stood out too much. We came here because Lorenc knew Canada would be the easiest place to blend in and probably the last place anyone would think to look for us. With my hair dyed black and posing as a couple with a young son, we are just another family living in a small town.

And things have been quiet and peaceful. We've built a life. Together. The three of us. This strange little family. So much shared love and loss, and now, it will all be gone again.

If I don’t stop it.

Whoever this man is,